The Seeker's Secret
by Jesse Marshall
Summary: Harry's won the Hogwarts Quidditch Cup, and Hermione wants to give him a gift for the win, but she never expected the boy's locker room would be such a dangerous place for her mental health. Slash One-Shot! Enjoy and review!


**The Seeker's Secret:**

Hermione stood perfectly still. She thought that if she moved too quickly, or even if she moved at all, that the scene in front of her would completely disappear. She was staring, which was quite rude, but under these circumstance probably more than acceptable. The humidity in the air was causing her hair to puff up even more, if that were possible. In one hand she was holding her wand, and in the other was a small little card that said 'Congratulations'.

She had considered waiting until Harry had come out of the boy's locker, but Ron had left thirty minutes ago and her best friend was still nowhere to be found. She had stopped Ron when he came out, but he had just shrugged his shoulders.

"He'll be out in a little bit 'Mione," he said with a goofy grin. "He always takes longer than the rest of us. Are one of those cards for me?"

"Oh," Hermione exclaimed. She had been startled out of her private thoughts by the direct question. "Yeah, this one."

She handed him a light blue card with an outline of a sparrow. The shadowy figure swooped down from the upper corner of the card to block another bird from getting to a tree at the bottom right. It was well done, and the charm work was very impressive. Ron said so.

"Thanks," Hermione said, blush creeping up in her cheeks. "How long does he usually take?"

"About fifteen minutes," Ron replied, thinking hard. "He's usually back in before you feel the need to go to the library."

"Very funny, Ronald," Hermione replied. She gave the boy beside her a quick jab to the ribs.

They had talked for a few more minutes, and then the boy had left for the great hall. He complained very loudly the entire way up about starving and almost having to eat his own foot. Hermione rolled her eyes, and found a spot on the grassy field to collapse onto. Her impatience eventually got the better of her, and now here she was. Her eyes locked onto her best friend and Draco Malfoy stuck together in a very compromising fashion.

Harry was sitting on one of the locker benches with his legs parted. His bronzed torso was completely bare, and his lower half covered only by a pair of dark blue boxer-briefs. His hair was matted to his forehead with sweat and dirt, and Hermione realized why it took so long for Harry to shower. He was being, to put it politely, distracted.

When she had walked into the locker room to find the two boys wrapped up in each other she had assumed Harry was being attacked. She had silently reached into her robes and removed her wand to hit Malfoy with a stunning curse. What had stopped her again? Oh yes, it was Malfoy calling out Harry's name. Not Potter, but actually Harry. Softly. His voice sounding thick and coarse. It had been a bucket of ice water over the girl's poor head.

They there were their various stages of undress. Harry was perfectly indecent; covered only by those tight fitted boxers. Malfoy, at least, still had his slacks and shoes on. The damnable Slytherin had his legs draped down Harry's back, and his thighs were wrapped around the other boy's waist.

Harry had one arm wrapped around Draco. His tan and golden complexion actually looked handsome against the blonde's cream coloured skin. Harry's elbow was bent just around the corner of Malfoy's ribs, and his wide, calloused hand was pressed flatly against the lithe boy's back. He was using this hand to push him closer.

"Draco," she heard Harry moan. Actually moaned his name! Hermione could feel a burning race out from her cheeks, to her ears, travelling across her forehead, and finally racing down her neck. This was so embarrassing, but she couldn't bring herself to interrupt.

Malfoy, now known as Draco apparently, rewarded this delicate whisper with a quick series of nips to the boy's neck. He trailed his tongue down the length of Harry's neck all the way to the collar bone, and then when he got there he changed direction and started planting tiny quick kisses up the boy's neck to his ear. He caught the outer shell in his teeth very gently, and playfully started to tug at the soft appendage.

Harry writhed under the boy's weight, and Hermione could see his skin had broken out completely in goose bumps. The other boy chuckled with almost cruel pleasure. He enjoyed watching Harry squirm; it was far too obvious. Harry removed the hand off of Draco's back, and the blond immediately sat up. He quickly braced himself with his arms behind him, and his hands grabbing the edge of the bench where Harry's knees were bent.

"Mr. Potter," Malfoy whispered with a sly smile. "I think that it's time for that shower. You smell worse than the weasel."

"Don't act like that," Harry said in a dull monotone, and Malfoy immediately grimaced.

"Sorry," he carefully replied. "Old habits, I suppose."

Harry nodded once, but a small smile started to creep onto his face. He brought his free hand up to cup Draco's cheek, and ran his thumb across the smaller boy's cheekbones. He did this motion a few times before he pulled his face down to kiss him.

The kiss itself was a simple thing. There was nothing heated or erotic about it. It seemed like a genuine kiss that you would share with a lover. It was a movie kiss. Their lips melted together perfectly. Harry's were darker in colour and a bit larger than the other's, but this just added to how right it looked. Their pliable flesh seemed to mold into each other.

Malfoy stood without ever taking his lips away from Harry. He pulled the Gryffindor seeker up with him, and they stood there for a moment embracing each other completely. There wasn't a single area of unclothed skin that wasn't touching the other. The blond was the first to break the kiss.

He trailed down those same quick nipping kisses from before to the corner of Harry's mouth and down his jaw. He brought his tongue out to follow the line of pulsing veins down to the collar bone, and then continued his way nibbling downward.

Harry seemed to be in a very mindless state during this time. His hairline seemed to be completely drenched in sweat now, and a few glistening droplets rolled their way past his eyebrows to fall to his cheeks. His breathing was erratic, and his chest rose and fell with a deep quivering motion. He ran a hand through is jet black hair, and then let it drop to the top of Malfoy's head.

He was, to Hermione's great surprise, suddenly down on one knee running his tongue in slow lazy circles around the pink flesh of Harry's nipples. The taller boy's goose bumps were back, and this time they covered every inch of his body. Harry was caressing the other boy's scalp with his finger tips. He would run them through his hair, and then tug very lightly right at the nape of the neck.

The blond didn't seem to notice this bit of work harry was doing, and if he did, he didn't really give any indication as to if this was something he was enjoying. He was dead set on one task alone, and that was keeping Harry James Potter in a state of hyperventilation apparently.

Malfoy's tongue dipped farther down, and traced the center line between Harry's abdominals. He ran the soft pink member around the navel, and finally he traced it slowly across a thin dusting of black hair that ran vertically from Harry's navel all the way to the waist band of those blue boxers.

Draco slid his hands up the Gryffindor's thighs and into those boxers through the bottom. Harry gasped violently, and Draco chuckled in response. Hermione could see the Slytherin's fingers grabbing the fabric of her best friend's underwear from the inside. Draco began to tug very slowly downward, and Hermione realized that that line of hair didn't stop at the waist band.

She quickly slapped her hand over her eyes, and cleared her throat as loudly as she could. There was a great ruckus suddenly. A dull wooden thunk resounded though the nearly empty place, and Hermione guessed one of them had fallen into the lockers. There was a lot of scrambling and shuffling going on, and she could distinctly hear the sound of clothes rustling.

"Who is it," she heard Harry hiss.

"It's your dear friend Granger," Draco replied in a harsh whisper.

There was a sharp intake of breath, and Hermione could hear a few choice words being rattled off in anxious whispers. Many of these words Hermione never realized existed.

"Hermione," Harry called out cautiously. His voice sounded a little flat.

Hermione opened her eyes to take a quick account of the situation. Malfoy was sitting quietly on the bench examining his fingernails. He was dressed quite completely and immaculately. His legs were crossed over the knees, and it even looked like he had managed to shine his shoes. Hermione shook her head with a one word thought, 'impossible'.

Harry on the other hand had tried to toss his shirt on over his head without unbuttoning the buttons. Hermione sighed, shaking her head in a slow disbelieving gesture as Harry struggled to squeeze his head through the neck opening.

"Oh honestly Harry," Hermione exclaimed with an exasperated sigh. "How is it that slimy git can manage to outsmart you with clothes?" She marched over and started to quickly finagle the buttons out of their holes.

Malfoy smiled wickedly, "They never talk about Gryffindor intelligence, do they?"

Hermione glared at him sharply, but this didn't deter the other boy at all. If anything his smile appeared to become larger.

"Sorry Granger," Draco said in a charming sort of way, "I guess I forgot about you though. You're intelligence is unrivaled."

Hermione froze. Her hands lingered on Harry's second shirt button, but his fat head was still stuck. Did Draco Malfoy just give Hermione Granger a compliment? Yes, she guessed he did, but she chalked it up to the adrenaline high from getting caught.

"Can it, ferret," she snapped angrily.

"Hermione," Harry mumbled from somewhere near his shirt pocket, "Be nice to Draco."

This time Hermione froze and never recovered. She stood quite still with her hands hovering in the middle of her job. She had woken up in an alternate universe, hadn't she? A strange universe where things didn't make sense. She was waiting for something else to happen. Maybe, Professor McGonagall and Hagrid were going to walk in next for their turn to snog.

Maybe there was a sign she missed. Boy's Locker Room: Where You can Snog Anyone!

"Uh, Hermione," Harry said with an anxious tone. "Are you alright?"

Harry had gotten his head unstuck, and was giving his friend a concerned and worried look.

"Didn't you hate him?" she asked.

He nodded.

"And you were just about to share a shower with him?" she said in more of a statement than a question.

He nodded.

"Naked," she said.

"Well Granger, how else do people shower?" Draco asked in his usual bored drawl.

"Not together," she exclaimed.

"You don't know the right kind of people," Draco replied.

Harry grimaced, "Please you two. Could you just get along for five minutes?"

"What do you think this is Harry?" Hermione asked. Her voice was rising in pitch. "Do you think you've just introduced some love interest to me, and I have a problem with the way he's dressed? This is Malfoy, Harry. I just walked in on you two having a blow out in the worst way."

Harry cringed, but didn't respond. It was Draco who finally broke the silence.

"Yes, you did Granger. Now, if you'll excuse me I'd like for us to go back to our worst possible ways, and that would go a lot easier without you here," he said.

"So," Hermione began, completely unfazed, "Are you two dating then?"

Harry went into a spasm of coughs and choking noises. Hermione ignored him completely and turned to Draco with a questioning eye.

"Yes," he said.

"Are you in love with him?" she demanded next.

"Maybe. I don't know yet," he answered without blinking an eye.

"Will you treat him well?" she asked.

"I'll consider it," he said with a quirky grin.

She threw a dangerous glare his way.

Draco rolled his eyes, "Fine. Fine. To the best of my abilities."

"Good," she replied. She then quickly turned to Harry, "I brought this for you."

She handed Harry the card that she had been holding. He took it without saying a word. It seemed he was completely dumbfounded. Hermione reached up on tip toes and kissed Harry's cheek.

"I'll see you at dinner, Harry," she said, walking away from the two and toward the exit. She paused with her hand on the doorknob to turn back with a smile. "By the way Harry, Good luck telling Ron."

With that she pushed the door open and walked into the fresh and crisp air of the outside world.


End file.
